


Puppy Love

by tricklesnitz



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Collars, Face-Fucking, Fake AH Crew, Finger Sucking, Hair Brushing, Hair-pulling, Light BDSM, Master/Pet, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panties, Praise Kink, Slight Spanking, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, hinted at choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 11:08:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16240385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricklesnitz/pseuds/tricklesnitz
Summary: “Aw, love,” Gavin says, petting over his hair. “No need to be shy,” he teases. “‘S just you ‘n me.” He runs a finger over the shell of Ryan’s ear, which Ryan assumes is flaming red.





	Puppy Love

**Author's Note:**

> the literal original prompt for this was "don't be shy, it's just you and me" and as the word count can tell you, it got out of hand.
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> anyways, this fic contains trans jack, gav, and jeremy.

Ryan’s just settling into his favorite chair with his newest book when his phone buzzes the once-twice pattern for a text message.

_Wanna come over?_ it reads. Gavin’s face leers from the contact photo, eyes bright over the rims of his sunglasses.

He sets his phone down with a roll of his eyes and hunkers further into his chair. They’ve been on a dry spell in terms of jobs, and Ryan’s finally starting to get over the anxious feeling of _gotta be doing something_ enough to be able to read without getting distracted.

A second text comes through: _We can spend time together._

That’s what piques Ryan’s interest. Usually when Gavin wants to bother him, he asks if they want to hang out. This change of language means something else, something more _personal_.

A third text comes that clinches the deal. _You don’t have to put your hair up._ Automatically, Ryan winds a finger into the ends of a lock of hair spilling over his shoulder and tugs. It’s not often he gets to just leave it free.

_Ok_ , Ryan texts back. He marks his book--barely even past the first pages, dammit--and sets it aside. Gavin texts him with where they’re meeting (the penthouse, big surprise), and Ryan barely does anything more to get himself ready than slide on a pair of ratty tennis shoes. If Gavin has a problem with his baggy day-at-home clothes he can choke on it.

The parking garage is tellingly empty of everyone’s usual cars, but Gavin’s bike is parked in its usual spot when Ryan pulls his own car. Everyone must have been at their own homes, like Ryan was before Gavin texted.

Gavin’s spread on the couch in the penthouse when the elevator opens and Ryan steps out. “Aw, look at you,” he coos. Ryan frowns. “You look so cozy in your joggers!”

Ryan ignores him in favor of sliding his shoes off and hanging his keys on the hook by the door, then padding over to the couch in his sock feet. He sits heavily next to Gavin and sinks into the plush couch.

“Can I brush your hair, lovely Ryan?” Gavin asks, scooting closer and touching the ends of his hair.

“Why?” Ryan asks. “Is it too messy for your tastes?” He hadn’t bothered to brush it yet and driving with his window down probably didn’t help how ratty his hair must look.

Gavin shakes his head. “I just want to take care of you, s‘all.”

Ryan considers it. “Okay,” he says. Getting your hair brushed always felt better when it was someone else, anyways. Gavin bounces up from the couch and heads down the hall. Ryan hears the wooden noise of a bathroom drawer open and shut, and then Gavin is coming back with a hairbrush with a hot pink paddle.

The red hairs he’s picking from the base of the bristles as he sits back on the couch make it clear that it’s Jack’s. Gavin catches him staring and grins. “She won’t mind,” he says, flicking a hair away from himself. He pats the front edge of the couch cushion he’s on and waits expectantly. Ryan sighs and slides down to the carpet to sit between Gavin’s knees.

Gavin makes a pleased noise and starts running the brush through Ryan’s hair. He catches a knot and does his best to gently work it through when Ryan hisses through his teeth. “Good,” Gavin praises softly, running a hand over his hair after the brush. “Lookit you,” he croons. Ryan shuts his eyes. “Good Rye, lovely Rye.”

Ryan feels warm, face flushing from the praise. He opens his eyes. “Are we really doing this here?” he asks, squirming a bit.

The brush stills. “Aw, love,” Gavin says, petting over his hair again. “No need to be shy,” he teases. “‘S just you ‘n me.” He runs a finger over the shell of Ryan’s ear, which Ryan assumes is flaming red.

Behind him, Gavin drops a hand to his shoulder, squeezing briefly, then pulls the brush through the last lock of his hair. He tucks it behind Ryan’s ear when he’s done and runs the backs of his fingers along Ryan’s cheekbone. Automatically, Ryan tilts into the motion. “Good boy,” Gavin says.

Ryan’s stomach flutters. Some of the tension melts out of his spine. “Gavin,” he says, flustered.

Gavin tuts. “Would you rather be something else? I can arrange that.” Ryan looks at him over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. “Stay,” Gavin says, squeezing at his shoulder again.

Then he leaves the living room again.

Ryan stays.

This isn’t the first time they’ve played; far from it, in fact, but it is the first time they’ve done it at the penthouse. Usually it’s been at Ryan’s apartment across Los Santos, where he keeps his privately purchased gear. Where he usually does it by himself when he’s too wound up to think.

Gavin comes back with an armful of things. He lays them out on the couch cushion next to him when he sits back down once more, then runs his fingers through the hair at the back of Ryan’s neck. “Good boy!” he says. Ryan fights the urge to preen as he shifts so he can see what Gavin had grabbed. “Good dog,” he praises.

Ryan blinks. _Dog_ feels more charged up and harsh than he feels. _Dog_ feels like Gavin holding him down by the back of his neck; the sting of a slap on the back of his thigh; the taste of a silicone dog bone shaped gag in his mouth and the slick feel of drool around it. Ryan doesn’t feel like _dog_.

On the couch is a strip of leather, some heaps of fabric, and what are obviously sex toys. “Gavin,” he says, smartly. He tries not to sound confused or disappointed--neither of which he actually _feels_ , but can’t figure out how to vocalize.

Gavin seems to get him, though. “What’s the matter, love?” he asks, bracketing his legs around Ryan.

“Dog seems… too harsh,” Ryan says hesitantly, propping his cheek against Gavin’s knee. “Today is a soft day.”

Gavin strokes through his hair, nails running lightly along his scalp and scratching at the base of his skull. He makes a thoughtful noise and keeps petting. Ryan relaxes into it with a soft hum. “You’re absolutely right,” he says. “Today is a soft day. What about ‘pup’ instead?”

That still doesn’t feel quite right. “Puppy?” Ryan suggests, looking up at Gavin. Gavin beams back at him.

“That’s excellent,” he says. “Who’s my good puppy?”

This time Ryan _does_ preen. Gavin laughs a squeaky, happy laugh. He picks up the strip of leather next to him and it clicks that it’s a collar once Ryan sees the buckle at one end. He lifts his head from Gavin’s knee and bares his throat.

“Excited for this, aren’t you?” Gavin says, circling the collar around his throat. The heavy collar feels like it’s lifting a weight from Ryan’s shoulders he didn’t know he was carrying. “Good boy,” Gavin murmurs, buckling it and sliding two fingers under to check the fit. “That good?” he asks.

Ryan nods. Gavin tugs on the collar. Right. “Yes, sir,” he says. Gavin smiles. Ryan wonders, briefly, what it must like to be Gavin right now. To have the Vagabond sitting at his feet, pliant and docile as ever.

“Good,” Gavin says again, brightly. He tugs on the collar again, then takes his fingers out and motions to the couch. “Pick out some panties, lovely Ryan.”

Ryan blinks, then refocuses on the fabric on the couch. Oh. That made sense. The pile is what looks like a handful of underwear pulled out of a drawer. He shifts onto his knees and leans over to paw through them.

The motion sets something jingling at his neck, and Ryan pauses to touch at it. It’s metal, flat and smooth save for engraving on the cool surface. “Is this a tag?” he asks. Gavin hums an affirmation. Ryan considers it, then turns back to the task he was given.

He picks out a pair. Black, mostly lace, very sheer. He sees Gavin nod out of the corner of his eye and sits back to kick off his socks, sweatpants and underwear, then pulls the panties on. Gavin hasn’t told him to put his sweatpants back on, so he doesn’t, and sits back down in just his shirt and the panties.

Ryan is settling back into the bracket of Gavin’s legs when he notices Gavin on his phone. “The others are gonna be back soon,” Gavin tells him, curling his fingers into Ryan’s hair. “Do you want them to see this? Or do you want to stop?”

He hesitates, and he must hesitate for a beat too long.

“Rye?” Gavin sounds concerned. “We don’t have to share this--”

“Okay,” Ryan says. “I don’t want to stop.”

Gavin pets through his hair. “Good boy, lovely Ryan, good puppy,” he praises. Ryan hides his face against Gavin’s thigh. And Gavin keeps petting him, gentle, loving, soothing, as he sends texts with his other hand.

The elevator dings open, and then--

"Aw, boi, you didn't tell us you got a dog!" Michael throws himself on the couch next to Gavin and gently scratches his fingers through Ryan's hair, rubbing at his scalp and mussing his hair.

"Yeah, well," Gavin demurs, swatting Michael's hand away from Ryan's head. "Ask before you pet, you pleb, didn’t anyone teach you manners?"

Michael scoffs. “What, ask him or ask you?” he asks. The fact that he had to ask at all has Ryan running warm with satisfaction. He’s Gavin’s puppy right now. He doesn’t speak unless he’s spoken to and he doesn’t make decisions. That’s what he wants out of this.

“Me, obviously,” Gavin replies, rolling his eyes. “A dog can’t answer a question.”

“Rye,” Michael directs at him. Ryan looks up at him. “Stoplights, right?” Michael asks. Ryan nods. “Good boy,” Michael says. Then he turns to Gavin. “Can I pet your dog?” he asks.

“Sure, boi!” Gavin replies, voice bright. “But be gentle, he’s only a puppy.”

“Only a puppy, huh?” The teasing lilt to Michael's voice sets Ryan’s face ablaze. “Well, he's a cute one.” He re-hides his face against Gavin's leg as Michael tousles his hair again.

The elevator dings again and when the door whooshes open, Michael's hand disappears from his hair. “Jack!” he calls. “Jack, Jack, c’mere!”

Jack rounds the side of the couch, sunglasses perched on top of her hair. “What's up?” she asks, meeting Ryan's eye when he peeks up at her.

“Gavvers got a puppy,” Michael brags, motioning at Ryan.

Jack's eyebrows raise, and then she crouches next to Ryan. “That so,” she says. “Do you have a collar on him? Puppies can be slippery when they’ve got too much energy.” She reaches out, then hesitates. Ryan doesn't see it, but Gavin must nod or give Jack some sign that she can touch him, because she touches his shoulder and coaxes his chin up.

Michael laughs. “I thought you'd put him in yours,” he says.

Gavin makes an offended noise. “Rye is a good boy. He isn't a brat!” As he says it, Ryan can picture the pink suede and rhinestone lettering on the collar in Gavin's room.

Jack presses a kiss to Ryan's cheek and smooths his hair back. “Doing okay?” she asks him. Ryan nods. “Good,” she says. Then, “Does he know any tricks?” is directed above his head.

“Well,” Gavin says. “He knows one. I’m tryin’ to teach him others but he’s stubborn.” Ryan huffs out a long breath through his nose. Jack laughs softly and runs her fingers through his hair again. “Wanna see it, Jack?”

“I’d love to,” Jack replies, pushing herself up out of her crouch and settling onto the couch next to Michael.

Gavin spreads his legs a bit wider, sets his phone aside, then reaches forward and hooks a finger in the collar. “Come on, boy,” he says, giving the cushion in front of him a pat. Ryan goes easily, turning to brace himself against the lip of the couch. Jack hums appreciatively somewhere to his side.

Ryan knows where this is going; his body is already reacting with interest even as he waits for Gavin’s command. This wasn’t the first time that they’ve done anything even remotely sexual in front of the rest of the crew, but it was the first time they’d set a scene like this first. One of his hands moves from the couch to Gavin’s thigh, and then the other.

“Good boy,” Gavin murmurs, taking his finger out of the collar. “Use your mouth,” he instructs.

“Yes, sir,” Ryan says, sliding his hands up Gavin’s thighs and hooking his fingers in the waistband of his untied flannel pajama pants. Gavin wriggles out of his pants and helps Ryan pull his underwear down too.

Ryan pushes himself onto his knees and kisses Gavin’s thigh, then his hipbone, and then seals his lips around the short length of Gavin’s cock. Gavin drags his fingers through Ryan’s hair with a groan and fists his hand at the back of his head. Ryan bobs his head and _sucks_ and follows Gavin’s hips when they rock against his face.

He hears Michael hiss out a sharp breath and a whispered curse and takes that as just as much praise as Gavin’s low, “ _Good_ boy.” He releases Gavin’s cock with a wet noise and uses his thumbs to spread him open. He licks over Gavin with light, teasing motions and then spears his tongue in, pressing as close as he can. Ryan revels in the tightening of fingers in his hair.

And then the fingers in his hair detangle themselves. He pulls away and looks up at Gavin with a soft whine.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Gavin says. “I’m coming back.” True to his word, Gavin’s hands are in his hair again; this time they scoop his hair back, keeping it from falling into his face, and balls his hand with as much hair as he can hold at the back of Ryan’s neck. Michael lets out a low whistle.

“You think you’d let him try that trick on someone else?” Michael asks. Gavin tugs at Ryan’s hair, humming in thought. Ryan dives back in, laving over Gavin’s hole and the underside of his dick in broad strokes.

“Rye, lovely pup,” Gavin says, breathless. “Down,” he says. Ryan sits back on his heels, sliding his hands back down Gavin’s thighs. A phone buzzes somewhere by Jack. Ryan ignores it. “Go to Michael,” he instructs.

“Yes, sir,” Ryan says. His voice shakes. He can feel Gavin’s slick on his chin and taste Gavin when he licks his lips. He starts to stand.

“No, no,” Gavin interrupts. “Puppies walk on four legs, not two.”

Ryan drops back to his knees. “Good boy,” Gavin coos.

The act of bending to crawl his way over to Michael--as short a distance as it is--drags his cock against the panties. Ryan realizes he’s so hard he’s aching and swallows thickly.

Michael drags him up by the collar with one hand and unbuttons his jeans with the other. Ryan braces himself against Michael’s hips and ruts against the couch.

“Ryan,” Jack says suddenly. “No. No humping.” Ryan freezes and lets out a choked groan. “The couch isn’t for humping.” Ryan whimpers as she reaches across Michael to run a hand down his back. “Nobody ever said you could get off.”

Ryan presses his face against Michael’s stomach with a whimper, composing himself. “Sorry,” he says.

Michael pets through his hair a few times, deceptively gentle, and then twists his fingers in near the root. Ryan gets the hint and sits back to unzip him. He pulls Michael out through the slit in his boxers. He’s hard and hot and heavy in Ryan’s hand. His mouth waters.

He licks one broad stripe up the underside and takes the head into his mouth. Michael isn’t shy about thrusting into his mouth and moaning. He pulls Ryan off, then pushes him back down, setting the pace he wants--much slower and softer than he normally would have; he must be remembering Gavin’s warning from earlier to be gentle. Ryan goes with it, letting his jaw fall slack and pumping what he can’t reach.

“God, you’re so good,” Michael hisses. Ryan moans around a mouthful of dick and flicks his eyes up just in time to see Michael drag Gavin in by the back of his neck and kiss him hard. He bobs his head, hollows his cheeks and sucks on the upstroke, wanting to hear Michael muffle his noises against Gavin’s mouth.

He gets his wish with a bonus of Jack purring, “Good boy, Ryan,” and pulls off Michael to pant. He strokes Michael as he catches his breath, and then takes him into his mouth once Michael starts squirming.

The elevator swooshes open as Michael comes in Ryan’s mouth. He pops up just in time to meet Jeremy’s eyes, wide and dark, over the back of the couch as he swallows. Geoff isn’t far behind him.

“Good puppy. Color?” Gavin asks, reaching down and thumbing at the curve of his jaw.

Ryan leans into it with a sigh. “Green,” he says, voice hoarse. “Very green.”

Jeremy comes around the couch and drops to his knees behind Ryan. “Can I touch?” he asks. Ryan barely hears Gavin’s answer, because Jeremy’s hands on him are electric, crackling over his skin and straight to his cock.

Jeremy’s hands slide under his shirt and stroke over his stomach, ticklishy light. “Jack, can he fuck me?” he asks. Ryan whines and arches into the hand that teases over a nipple.

“He’s not my puppy, sweetheart, you have to ask Gav,” Jack says. The hands trail down, down, down. One settles on his hip. The other cups his dick. Ryan ruts, keening high in his throat.

“Please,” he pants, turning to Gavin and swallowing thickly.

Jack’s hand comes down sharply on the outside of his thigh. Ryan jolts with a yelp. “What did I already tell you?” she asks, grabbing his chin and making him look her in the face.

“No humping, ma’am, sorry, ma’am,” he whimpers.

Jack’s fingers loosen and card through his hair. “That’s right,” she says, scratching her nails over his scalp. “Good boy.” He shuts his eyes and lets the praise roll over him. The slap to his thigh stings in the best way.

The crinkle of plastic has him dragging his eyes open. “So I guess he still gets this?” Geoff tosses a cellophane wrapped package into Gavin’s naked lap. Gavin scrambles for it. “I thought if Jack was disciplining him he wouldn’t deserve it, but…” Ryan meets his eyes and he winks. “Are you a good boy?”

Ryan nods. “Yes, yes, I am,” he says. Jeremy drags his fingers up and down the length of his cock through the material of his panties. His thighs tremble with the effort of staying still. Jeremy presses a kiss to the curve of his jaw.

“Give it to him, Gav,” Geoff instructs, turning to pull off his blazer and roll his sleeves up.

Gavin peels the tape up.

“Jack said we had a puppy today so I got him a toy.” Geoff grips Jack’s hips and slides onto the couch behind her, nosing into her hair.

“Bloody hell, Geoffrey,” Gavin says, pulling a powder pink, silicone bone covered in little nubs out of the wrapping. “You got him a literal toy!”

“Well, _yeah_ ,” Geoff scoffs, winding his arms around Jack’s waist. “What did you think it was gonna be?”

Gavin picks up a vibrator from where it’s starting to slide into the couch and gestures it at Geoff.

“He has like a million of those! _You_ have like a million of those!” Geoff shrills. “This is scene- _specific_!”

Gavin sticks his tongue out, then pulls his focus back to Ryan. “Do you wanna play with it?” He wags the bone in front of Ryan’s nose. Ryan nods. Jeremy lets him go and scoots back. Gavin gives the bone a toss, and Ryan crawls after it.

He reaches for it with one hand, then pauses and thinks better of it and bends to pick it up between his teeth. Ryan brings it back to Gavin, dropping it to the cushion between his spread legs.

The sight of Gavin’s thighs reminds him that he never finished with him. When Gavin throws the bone again, Ryan ignores it to kiss at Gavin’s knee. Then along his thigh. Gavin hums, but it’s thoughtful enough to make Ryan pause.

“Sir,” Ryan starts. “Can I...” he cuts himself off and wets his lips. “Can I, more, you never let me finish with you, only Michael,” he says, voice halting. “Please.” Propping himself up on the lip of the couch while Gavin pretends to think seems like the only right answer.

He lets himself get distracted by Jack making a soft noise and looks to see why. Geoff is kissing at her neck and has his hands under her blouse. He feels a drip of precum stick the panties to the head of his dick and fights the urge to rock into it.

Ryan wants to be everywhere at once.

A zipper sounds behind him and Ryan turns further, only to be greeted by the sight of Jeremy sliding a hand into his boxers. There’s a hand at his jaw, pulling, turning, and then a hand sliding into his hair.

“Gonna let me fuck your face, Rye?” Gavin purrs, guiding his face between his legs.

“Yeah,” Ryan breathes. Gavin pulls at his hair, the feeling sharp and sparkly down his spine. “Yes, yes sir, yes,” he corrects himself quickly. He holds himself back from diving in, instead allowing Gavin to guide his head where he wants it. Ryan licks, sucks, bobs, breathing where he can as Gavin all but rides his face.

Gavin's thighs start to shake, his breathing picks up, his legs clamp tight around Ryan's head and then relax. Ryan moans helplessly against Gavin's dick as Gavin comes apart above him.

Gavin comes down with a shuddering breath and lets Ryan's hair go.

A noise Jeremy makes behind him makes Ryan remember where he is. He sits back on his heels and lifts his hand to catch a drip of Gavin’s slick sliding from his chin. Geoff has a hand in Jack’s unbuttoned shorts now, stroking her slowly. Her face is flushed and her lips are parted as she pants harshly into the sex-humid air of the penthouse.

Both of them are watching him.

Jeremy makes another noise, and Ryan turns to face him. His pants are around his thighs and he’s two fingers deep in himself. “Rye,” he moans, locking eyes with him.

Ryan’s never felt more _wanted_.

“Go,” Gavin says. He starts to say more, but it’s cut off with a squeak as--Ryan assumes--Michael yanks Gavin into his lap.

Ryan crawls to Jeremy. Jeremy watches him pull his jeans and underwear off, and pulls his fingers out of himself with a wet, lewd noise. Ryan pulls the panties from his hips, hissing a breath in at the damp pull from his cock and pulls them off, leaving them in the heap by Jeremy’s clothes.

As he’s lining himself up to press into Jeremy’s warm heat, a hand grabs his jaw and presses his mouth open. Jeremy’s fingers press into his mouth, the two that were inside him before, and Ryan automatically closes his lips around them to suck them clean.

He sinks home, bottoming out against Jeremy’s pelvis, and Jeremy startles a moan out of him by pressing down on his tongue. A bead of drool wells up between Jeremy’s fingers and drips over the shelf of his lip.

“ _God_ , you’re hot,” Jeremy praises. He lets go of Ryan’s jaw and instead hooks a finger into the collar. The tag jingles as he tugs on it, and Ryan whimpers around Jeremy’s fingers, still pressing into his tongue. “Good puppy,” Jeremy says, arching up to meet Ryan’s short, quick thrusts. Another drop of drool slips from his lip and hits Jeremy’s neck.

Jack makes a punched-out noise followed by a long, soft moan behind them. It spurs Ryan on, knowing that sound and knowing she’s come. He moans and slams just that much harder into Jeremy, who echoes a moan back at him.

Jeremy’s toes curl and slide against the floor. He tucks another two fingers the collar, and they press against Ryan’s neck in just the right way.

He wheezes, pressing against Jeremy and grinding. His orgasm comes up on him faster than he expects, and he fights against biting down on Jeremy’s fingers.

Jeremy pulls his fingers out of Ryan’s mouth and his collar and drops one hand to jerk himself off. He lets out tiny, breathless whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut tight as he comes around Ryan.

Ryan rolls off Jeremy and hits the floor next to him with a satisfied _thump_.

The silence stretches for several comfortable beats. Then, “Everyone good?” Geoff asks. The rest of them answer with various groans and grunts and hums, and Geoff laughs through his nose. “Rye?”

Ryan lifts his head, one eyebrow raised.

“Good boy,” Geoff says.

**Author's Note:**

> please clap


End file.
